The One with the Llama
by sweetdeanalive
Summary: Where Dean is a baker, you get an angsty backstory and a llama ruins a pie competition.


**This was a challenge from by friend who wanted me to write a baking au- with llamas. It's unbeta-ed because I'm lazy and I wrote it in an hour... Hope you like it and review and tell me if you want more of this? xx **

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><p>Dean always thought he had an affinity with dough. Not in the sense that he was thick or gloopy- he wasn't that hard on himself- but instead it spurred him on to rise up to challenges. Put the wrong ingredients into a dough, you will never get the expected outcome. Put too much into it and you can ruin yourself- especially in a hygiene inspection; he learnt that the hard way... Baking was his rock(cake) and he held onto it with all he had.<p>

Forward. Backward. Forward. Backward. Endlessly repetitive it was making strudel. Mary Poppins lied to him when she said noodles were involved- it took no brain power whatsoever mindlessly stretching out the paper-thin dough. Why he had volunteered for the local baking fair was a mystery to him. Sam knew he hated these gatherings. With all the know-it-all mothers and snooty judges making preconceptions about him because of his AC/DC t-shirts, it was enough to drive him crazy just thinking about it. He had a business to run!

He says business in the loosest sense of the word because as Bobby says, "It'll just vacuum away your savings, boy," and only just scrapes a profit at the end of the month. It's worth it though, he really loves it. Seeing people queue up in the morning to buy your work and seeing them enjoy it, savour it and thank him for it gives him something to wake up in the morning for. It's also quite useful that he's good at it too, he supposes.

Mary taught him everything. Every single recipe, technique and flourish had come from her. From when he was around three years old he watched her bake. Thousands upon thousands of pies were laid out on the counter for him and Sammy to try every week; until she decided it was perfect. Then she would teach Dean. He loved it. In fact he almost prayed for it after a while. It was the one time he could spend with her without interruption from Sammy or any neighbours, it was almost as if they knew. This was his time.

It went on for years and years until one day it stopped. She was ill and Dean was about twenty-two at the time, working as a mechanic with Bobby. John had run off before Sam was born so there was nobody really to tell. Dean had taken time off work after seeing a steep decline in her health and stayed at home with her. And it was too quiet. No phone calls, nothing. You could see everything falling apart around them. It was after three days like this when Mary called him over.

She handed Dean a newspaper cutting and held his hands in hers. On it was a "for sale" title and a picture of a shop in town. They'd passed it and been in many times before. It was a bakery. Her favourite. She'd been so upset when she had found it had closed. He remembers how she vowed to buy it and how she promised him that they'd go into business together. She went into hospital a few weeks later and he'd forgotten all about it. Now she was holding out this cutting.

"I promised didn't I?", she said softly as she held her son in her skeletal arms.

"Yeah," he paused for breath and then continued, "Together."

"I'm afraid we both know that can't happen but let's just say I invested in you. Just look out for Sammy whilst you're at it okay, son?"

Then they both sat outside in silence until Mary fell asleep in her chair. She didn't wake up.

Now years later, with pent-up, emotional grief, he was here. Making a crappy strudel in his own bakery for a country fair. He hoped she would be proud. All he had to do was to make one more pie for the competition and he'd be ready.

**The Next Day**

He was right about the snooty moms and judges but he really didn't care. His pie was the best in the country and if they all didn't agree they could all stuff themselves with their fucking horrible fillings. Some had even tried to make theirs healthy- an abomination; pie was never made for mangy rabbits.

All he was waiting for was the result, then he was out of there. Except it was an indescribably long time for any of them to even take a bite of one pastry for the amount of time he'd spent out here. Then he heard a scream.

Rushing in, he expected there to be a vampire in there or something. He searched for a way of defending himself however all he found was a frying pan. Heavy, but far less intimidating than he had planned. He was Dean Winchester, the sexiest baker in Kansas- he could fight anything. Vampire, bear, dinosaur, llama-...

There was a llama in front of him. That... Was not what he was expecting. Huddled in the corner were the array of judges and snooty moms' that he so despised hiding from a llama. What's so scary about a llama?

They spit for one.

And this one kicked.

He hates llamas.

He also hates that he screamed because of it... Lying on the floor of a field with a marquee above you isn't glamorous at all and the pain from being kicked in the balls by a llama cannot ever be forgotten. Upon opening his eyes he sees an angelic face look down on him. Helping him up, he smiles awkwardly before introducing himself.

"Hey, my name's Cas," quickly he looked down at his shoes before carrying on, " I have a feeling you might have seen my llama?"


End file.
